


More Of The Same

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-09 22:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10423647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: Dick never even realized. Though apparently Bruce had.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted to but. Oh well. Basically, this is Bruce being aware of how fucked up their family is, and how much Damian suffers loving them, and how important Dick is to him, how Dick kind of takes him for granted, and Bruce wanting to be a protective dad. After the current arc in Nightwing obvi, where Dick’s been kind of a huge tool to Damian the whole time. I feel like Damian would internalize a lot of Dick’s attitude towards him as being Dick doesn’t care about him, and he’s a burden. Dick will be allowed near Damian again eventually, but for now, Bruce is in mama bear mode.

The door’s creak was loud when Dick walked in the door. He called, and his voice echoed through the halls. Alfred gave a greeting hum in response from somewhere upstairs.

Dick grinned, moving towards the kitchen. He glanced into the sitting room as he passed it, and found himself pausing in the doorway.

Damian was sprawled out on the sofa, cat on his chest, dog on his legs, fast asleep. There was still the shadow of a bruise on his forehead from their most recent adventure.

Dick felt his grin widen, and he twisted on his heel to take a detour into the room. But suddenly there was a low voice behind him:

“Leave him alone.”

Dick looked over his shoulder, found Bruce strolling towards him from the kitchen, a bottle of water in his hand.

“Aw, B, I wasn’t going to wake him.” Dick chuckled. “I was just gonna kiss his cute little face.”

Dick turned back, took a step towards Damian, but instantly, there was a grip on his elbow.

“I said,” Bruce growled, yanking Dick backwards. “Leave him _alone_.”

Dick frowned, jerking his arm from the overly harsh grip. “What the hell’s your problem, Bruce? Joker piss on your car last night?”

“So what, are you saying _you_ wouldn’t be a little annoyed?” Bruce asked sarcastically. It was almost his damn _Batman_ voice. “If someone upset one of _your_ kids?”

“Who upset him?” Dick asked. “Did him and Jon fight again? Or was it Jason? I can talk to him if you-”

“You, Dick.” Bruce hissed. “It was _you_.”

“…What?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb.” Bruce rolled his eyes, turned away, back towards the kitchen. It wasn’t said, but Dick knew he was expected to follow. Despite wanting to be difficult in his own sudden annoyance, he did just that. “On your last mission. Where he helped you find your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I remember the mission. We worked together fine. _Great_ even.” Dick shrugged. “Reminded me of the old days, actually. Reminded me how much I…I miss him.”

“Is that so?” Bruce hummed as they made it to the kitchen. He leaned on one side of the center island. Dick leaned on the other. “Because that’s not what he got out of it.”

“What are you…” And then Dick scoffed sourly. “What, am I supposed to believe that your son _talked_ to you?”

Bruce ignored the barb. “He mentioned it. Said you’d made it clear you didn’t want him there, or his help.” Bruce looked guiltily down at his water. “Said he didn’t feel like that much of an unwanted burden since…well, since _me_.”

They both remained silent, thinking about that.

“He clammed up after that, so.” Bruce inhaled. “I looked at the footage from both of your mask cameras.”

“And?”

Bruce looked back up. “And it confirmed his story.”

“You’re kidding me.” Dick laughed incredulously. “Bruce, you know how Damian is, he sees the worst in-”

“You’re not that dense, Dick. Don’t pretend to be.” Bruce repeated. Dick just stared. “Or do you really not realize?”

“Realize _what_?” Dick asked, exasperated.

“Everything he said, you countered. Every time he tried to help, you ignored him. _Shouted_ at him.” Bruce leaned forward. “You got him thrown into a goddamn _tomb_ , and the second he got out – with his own _face_ – he still did everything he could to save _you_.”

Dick opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly Bruce was digging in his pocket, pulling out a small device. Hit a few buttons and then slid it across the counter.

Footage from Damian’s mask.

But it wasn’t a moment Dick remembered. Damian kneeling in front of him, grabbing the front of his uniform. Yelling at him.

Then Dick saw his own eyes. Completely black. He realized that it was after Deathwing had put him in that trance, where he couldn’t remember who he was, _where_ he was.

When he woke up to find Damian leaning over him, forehead bleeding. When he asked Damian what had happened, and Damian quietly told him, _“Nothing.”_

He couldn’t see Damian’s face, obviously, but he could hear him. He sounded desperate. Near tears. So… _not_ Damian.

“…Finding a new life. Considering having a child to replace me. I don’t know what I will be…” Damian whispered. “…Alone.”

Dick…had no idea that’s what Damian thought of everything.

Then Damian leaned back, to the position Dick remembered waking up to.

“I need you here, Richard.” Damian breathed, sounding so lost. So scared. So _small_.

Then Dick woke up. Then they were fighting. Then Dick was dealing with their Dollotron copies. Then Pyg, then Shawn.

Damian’s video showed him always yards away. Never talking to Dick directly. Trying, but getting shot down, getting ignored. For Pyg’s other victims, for his girlfriend. And the video showed him taking it. Taking it and still jumping at the chance to help Dick in his mission, help protect Dick any way he could.

His gut was churning when Bruce finally took his device back.

“I expected better of you, Dick.” Bruce growled. “I expected so much _better_.”

“Wha…Bruce.” Dick frowned. “Okay, you’re right. I was a jerk. And I didn’t…I didn’t know about _that_ moment. I didn’t realize he’d saved me from that…thing. But you set me straight, okay. You showed me the truth. So just let me go talk to him. Let me go _apologize_ -”

“No, Dick.” Bruce glared. “You still don’t _get_ it. You still don’t understand _what you did.”_

“…What I did?” Dick asked softly. The churning in his stomach turned to nausea. “…Bruce. What did I do?”

“…You treated him like I did. … _Do.”_ Bruce whispered back, looking away. “He loves you more than anyone on the planet – more than me or Talia, even. …And you treated him like we do.”

Dick blinked, looked towards the doorway, towards the sitting room he couldn’t quite see.

“You were the first one to love him unconditionally. Respect him, treat him like a person. He let his walls down for you. He _trusted_ you. _You_ were always there for him, no one else. _No one_ else. You could do no wrong to him.” Bruce sounded almost sad, almost _jealous_ about this. Definitely disappointed. “And then you _did_. Then you fell off that pedestal he put you on.”

Dick felt his eyes mist, and closed them.

“…I’ve always been happy you were in his life, Dick. _Thrilled_ , even. Because you loved him like I never could. You treated him like he deserved. I always believed you’d never hurt him like I have. Because you were supposed to be the best of us. You _are_ the best of us, Dick. Of _all_ of us. Especially to him.” Bruce continued. “But…now you have.”

“Bruce.” Dick looked back desperately. “Bruce, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You know I didn’t-”

“Now you _have_ hurt him, and…you’re just like the rest of us. You treated him just like the rest of us do. You pushed him aside,” Bruce repeated. “And…I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make him feel wanted anymore.”

“Let me talk to him.” Dick begged. “Let me…let me fix things with him.” His guilt raged as he reminded, both Bruce and himself: “I have before.”

Bruce sighed, and looked him in the eye. His father figure suddenly looked old. Tired. Worried. “…Go home, Dick.”

“Bruce-”

“Please. Just go home.” Bruce reiterated sleepily. “Leave Damian alone. For now.”

“Bruce, I can fix this.” Dick pushed. “I _can_. I have be-”

“You have before. I know, Dick. And knowing him, he’d forgive you in a second, like he always does. Everything would be great, and the incident would be forgotten.” Bruce suddenly pushed off the counter, and turned back towards the hall. “But have you ever played baseball?”

Dick blinked, confused. “Baseball?”

“The three strike rule.”

“…Bruce.”

“Strike one: you gave up Batman and left him with me.” Bruce slowly walked away, clutching his water bottle in his hand. “Strike two: You – _we_ – let him believe you were dead, and you stayed away from him for months. Arguably when he may have needed you most. And I will take partial blame on that.”

Dick could only watch him leave, knowing the truth of Bruce’s simply analogy. Dick had gotten a lot of chances. Damian had _given_ him a lot of chances.

Some he didn’t deserve.

(A lot he didn’t deserve.)

“…I’m sorry, son. But right now he thinks you don’t love him. And, true or not, I can’t let you hurt him like this anymore.” Bruce whispered over his shoulder as he disappeared into the hallway. “This is strike three, Dick. And it looks like you’re out.”


End file.
